I currently have four or five drafts sitting in my blogger thingamajig. They'e been there for months. Posts that start out with something cute or funny -- Polly-and-Bob dialogs, stories about Riley, a-funny-thing-happened-to-me anecdotes -- and are supposed to wind up revealing something profound that I learn from these things. But I can't push "publish" on any of them. The reason why is if it doesn't feel real, if it feels forced, I can't do it. And that's what those were. Half-baked ideas that were more about being funny and wise and they were not where I am right now. See, this year has been a long slog. Physically, mentally, and spiritually. And I think I'm ready to just fess up to some stuff. Body. I had two surgeries in 2018. One in February to remove that hateful tissue expander and install an implant where my breast used to be. This was going to be it! I'd finally be done and able to move on. It did not work out that way. At a fo...